


A Payne So Sweet

by katsudonfatale



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, F/M, Petyr Baelish is a little bitch, Sansa-centric, Strangers to Lovers, podrick payne is a hero, sansa stark deserves the best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsudonfatale/pseuds/katsudonfatale
Summary: What if Tyrion had devised a plan to keep from having to marry Sansa Stark? What if that plan included his squire, Podrick Payne?A reimagining of the events of A Song of Ice and Fire seen through the eyes of newlyweds Sansa and Podrick





	1. There has never lived a more loyal squire

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure where this is going, but I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. This is super un-beta'd so I apologize for any mistakes

Sansa Stark feared many things in King's Landing. Joffrey and the queen, for their cruelty, the Hound for his ferociousness, Petyr Baelish and Varys for their tricks: her list of fears continued on and on. One person, however, that she had never thought to fear was the imp, Tyrion Lannister. He was a half man, and though he looked grotesque, he seemed to be the most harmless Lannister in the whole of Westeros.   
“My Lady Sansa,” he said to her as she entered. “Please,” he motioned for her to sit. Sansa glanced at her maid. The woman’s face was pinched. She turned back to Lord Tyrion.   
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I have called you here.”  
“Yes, My Lord,” She replied, not quite meeting his eye.   
“My Lady I do not want to mince my words. My father and sister have plans to marry us off to each other.” He takes a deep drink of wine. Sansa gasps, and feels tears spring to her eyes. It seems ridiculous, after all the things that have happened to her and to her family, but she is sad that her life will not be one like the stories.   
“But I’m supposed to marry Loras,” she said meekly. Loras Tyrell was going to be her gallant knight who would take her away from king’s Landing and they would have beautiful children together and she would finally be happy.  
“Loras is to wed my sister the Queen,” Tyrion said without scruples. “My father i not fond of the idea of the North and the Reach slipping from his grasp. He sees this marriage as a way to keep both firmly in his hands.”  
“I see,” Sansa says, looking down at her hands folded prettily in her lap.  
“Unfortunately for my father, I am not fond of the North, beautiful country though it is. And as your husband, I would rule there until our children came of age.” Sansa wanted to say that she had an older brother, and two little ones back in Winterfell waiting for her to come home. But she knew that if Robb did not win the war, then he would not survive it, nor would their brothers. And so she would be left as the sole heir to Winterfell and it would pass onto whatever children she would bear. And the Lannisters did not plan on losing the war.  
“So, how to solve this predicament?” He motioned for someone behind Sansa to come forward.   
Podrick Payne, his squire emerged and came to stand beside Sansa, in front of his lord.   
“Podrick here presents our solution.” He folded his hands in front of himself once more.   
“My Lord, I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Podrick said, his voice low but surprisingly strong. Sansa looked him up and down. He was not much older than she was, and he was handsome with his dark hair and eyes. His figure and face were a touch rounder than the other boys his age, though.   
“You will marry Lady Sansa, Pod.” Tyrion said. “You will become warden of the North and the Lord of Winterfell.You will serve your lady with honor.” He said, as though Podrick and Sansa had already agreed.   
“The King won’t like it, your father won’t like it.” Sansa said. The fear had returned to her eyes.   
“I have thought about this,” Tyrion said. “I have watched my nephew do terrible things to you my Lady and I will not tolerate them any longer. Will he like this arrangement? No, because it means that you will no longer be in the capital to serve as his entertainment. But,” Tyrion held up a finger. “Podrick hails from a house that swears its fealty to House Lannister. Swear to him that you will uphold peace in the north, and my father may just let you leave. Besides that, my father may be powerful, but even he cannot break a marriage sanctified by the gods, try as he might.”  
“What of my duties to you, My Lord?” Podrick piped in.  
“You will be released from them. The Warden of the North does not double as a squire to a Lannister.” He gave Podrick a meaningful look. “Are we agreed?”   
The squire and the lady nodded. Tyrion had expected no less. Pod would do his duty and take upon himself whichever task his lord set him to, and Sansa had been wooed at the promise of freedom, just as he knew she would. She may look like her Southron lady mother, but Sansa was a Stark, through and through.   
“Good. We must move quickly. Sansa you will return to your room. Tonight, my man Bronn will retrieve you and bring you to the crypts. We will meet you there with a septon.”  
“So quickly?” Sansa asked. She thought that she would have more time, that she could ask Shae about the things that would be required of her as wife, things she’d never gotten to ask her mother about.   
“We must. Tell no one of this meeting. If we are going to succeed, we have to move before they do.” Tyrion looked down at the papers on his desk, then up, behind Sansa and Podrick and at Shae, who had stood quietly in the back of the room for the entire meeting.  
“If there is one thing that I learned from my youth, it is how fragile plans are where my father is concerned.”  
Sansa stood then, and curtsied prettily first to Tyrion and then to Podrick Payne.   
“Until this evening, Ser Podrick.” She said, trying to meet his eye as she turned to leave the room. He kept his eyes firmly on the floor in front of him, another blush working its way up his neck and onto his cheeks and the tips of his ears.   
When the Lady and her maid had left, Podrick collapsed into the chair where Sansa had been sitting. He let out a long breathe.   
“Have a drink, Pod.” Tyrion pushed a goblet of wine towards him. Pod took it and drank deeply from it.   
“My Lord, I’m no lord. The lady Sansa, she, I,” Podrick began, his nerves jumbling his words in his mouth and throat.  
“Tell me Pod, is she ugly?”  
“No, My Lord,” Podrick took another drink.  
“Unpleasant?”  
“No, My Lord,”  
“A girl who has been mistreated repeatedly by my repulsive nephew, a girl whom you can save from a fate worse than death?” Tyrion questioned. Podrick said nothing, would not look his lord in the eyes.  
“The answer is yes, Podrick. You’ve seen as clearly as I how unhappy that poor girl is. While you are no lord, you are honorable, and you don’t have a vile bone in your body. I am entrusting her safety to you.”   
“Yes, My Lord.” Podrick said quietly. Tyrion sighed and poured more wine for Podrick and himself.  
“I suppose this is the part where I would give you a talk of your husbandly duties to your wife, but I seem to remember you as the man who will bankrupt whores.”  
~  
Sansa was shaking by the time she reached her room; partially from nerves, partially from fear, and partially from the prospect of finally escaping Joffrey and the Queen.   
When she and Shae entered her room and the door was tightly shut, Sansa finally allowed herself to smile. She held a hand up to her mouth and giggled into it, looking around at the room that would only serve as her cell for a few more fleeting hours.   
Her eyes landed on the doll her father had given her, carefully set among her few precious things. She was sad suddenly, that her father would not be here to hand her off to her new husband. She did not know yet if her father would have liked him, but she was hopeful. He was no Ser Loras, but Podrick Payne seemed like a good sort.   
“My lady, would you like me to call for a bath?” Shae asked, her accent light and lilting. Sansa nodded. She had much to prepare for before the evening.   
Shae called the water to heated and brought to her room, and when the tub was full and warm, she helped Sansa out of her dress and into the water.   
“Can I ask you a question?” Sansa asked shyly as Shae scrubbed her skin. She nodded, and so Sansa pressed on. “What is like to,” her speech trailed, and she hoped that she could pass the blush coloring her cheeks off as the water making her flush.   
“To lie with a man?” Shae pressed, raising her eyebrows at her Lady.  
“Yes, I’ve heard the ladies say things, but I don’t know what to expect.” She said.   
“I heard that Podrick laid with three whores and they refused to take the money.” She said bluntly. Sansa exclaimed at her, but she shrugged.  
“You are in good hands, Lady.” She said soothingly. “And besides, that boy could not hurt a fly even if wanted to.” She added.   
“Yes but,” Sansa started, but stopped again, lost for the words to describe her worry. Shae stopped at looked at the young girl before her. She’d only flowered a few months ago, and now she was going to be a wife.   
“Laying with man can be very pleasant.” Shae said. “If that man knows what he’s doing, and I think that Pod knows exactly what he’s doing.”  
They were silent for several moments. Sansa stepped out of the water and Shae dried her skin and started brushing through her hair.  
“Do you think he will love me?” Sansa asked. Shae was not sure how to answer her. She was sure that the boy was half in love already, but that his pride would keep him from ever admitting it. Pride in boys was a funny thing. She had yet to work out how it affected her Lion’s squire.  
“I think he will,” she responded and asked her lady about which dress she would like to wear that night. 

~  
Podrick Payne, the squire of Lord Tyrion Lannister, held his breath as he watched Lady Sansa Stark walk towards him. As a squire, he’d spent a majority of his life looking at high born lords and ladies. In the last several months that he’d spent in Lord Tyrion’s service, he’d spent a disproportionate amount of time looking at Sansa Stark. It was less because she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and more because the king enjoyed making a spectacle out of the girl with a traitor father.  
He was used to being ignored, to the lords and ladies looking past him. But here she was, one of the highest ladies in the realm, staring straight at him. He was sure that he had died, or that he was asleep and just dreaming, or any manner of other things. All he knew was that this could not be his reality.   
She was beautiful, and high-born, and he was the last son of a lowly knight house and a squire. He had nothing to give her, no title, no land. Seven hells, he couldn’t even wield a sword well enough to protect her if it came to that. But there she was, walking towards him as his future wife.  
He threw his cloak over her shoulders, bringing her under his protection. It was the nicest he had, the one he wore when he served Lord Tyrion at banquets and such. Still, it was not half as nice as the dress the Lady wore. They said their vows quickly, looking shly into each other’s eyes. When it was done, their hands bound and unbound by the septon, his Lord, Tyrion, threw a jingling pouch at the Septon and gave a grim look to the young couple.   
“The easiest part in behind us,” he said. “Tomorrow, you will present yourselves at court before the king and beg his forgiveness. You will spin a tale to court about how you are madly in love and could not bear to be parted.The court loves lovers.”  
“Yes, Milord,” Pod said meekly.   
“Now, you will return, discretely, to the Lady’s chambers and you will consummate your marriage. In the morning, your maid will collect the sheet with your maiden blood and you will present it to the court and the king as proof. There can be no doubt that this marriage is real, is that clear?”   
“Yes, my lord,” they answered in unison, blushing furiously. Sansa’s blush was much prettier than Podrick’s.  
“Good,” is all Tyrion said as he waddled away, the torches lining the walls throwing his shadow, much taller than the man himself, down the halls. The septon follows him and Sansa’s maid ushers the pair of them out of the crypts and back into Sansa’s room.   
There was a single candle alight on a small table by the Lady’s bed, and Podrick stood nervously by the door as her maid pulled down the bed sheets. Sansa nodded to her and they maid departed. They were left in a silence that extended leagues between them.  
“I used to want to escape the North so badly,” Sansa said suddenly. “I wanted to come to King’s Landing and see all the glamorous Lords and Ladies, and all the candles in the windows after dark. It all seems so silly now.” Her gaze is far away. Podrick takes a small step towards her.  
“I wanted to be a hero.” He said, his speech fast but not stuttered. “I heard tales of all the gallant knights who fought in tournaments and won glory. I wanted to be a knight so badly.”  
Podrick looked up and saw Lady Sansa studying him carefully. He flushed bright red again, and cursed himself for saying something so stupid.   
“What silly children we were,” she said. She turned her back towards him them, and her hands moved in front of her. He looked at her back, her slender waist and long beautiful hair. Suddenly, the dress fell from her shoulder, leaving her in just her thin shift. Goosebumps raised on her arms from the chilled night air. Podrick gasped when she turned and looked him in the eyes, the blue pools drowning him.  
“We can’t afford to be children any longer,” she said, reaching a hand up and pushing the thin straps of her shift off her shoulders. Pod nearly choked when he took in her body. She was...beyond words, a goddess among men and he was no worthy.  
He’d lain with the three whores in Little Finger’s pleasure house. Never for a moment had he thought that they’d cared for him, that they were anything other than women that he was (or wasn’t, as the case had been) paying to lie with him. He knew that other men had seen, had felt and been with those women. Sansa Stark was different. She was his, and his alone.   
For all the reputation he’d earned, he was still a nervous stumbletongue.   
“M-my Lady,”   
“Sansa,” she whispered and held a hand out to him. He took it. He didn’t know if it was he who was shaking so badly or her. More than likely it was their combined nerves. She reached up and her hands shook as her fingers undid the laces on his shirt.   
His wife was right, they could not afford to be children any longer.  
~  
Podrick fought off the wave of exhaustion that crashed over him. Sansa had fallen asleep almost immediately after their coupling. There could be no denying their marriage now.   
Sansa looked calm, relaxed, almost happy in her sleep. Pod ran a finger lightly over her arm. When she stirred, he drew his hand back and held his breath. He didn’t want to wake her; they’d be having few moments of peace in the coming days and he thought that she should sleep while she could. She settled back into sleep a moment later, moving into Podrick’s warm side. He wrapped a tentative arm around her.  
He could love his wife. He was half way there already. The first time he’d seen her, he’d never seen someone look so sad. All he’d wanted to do was wipe the tears from her eyes and shield her from the prying eyes of the court. But he was just a squire, and so he watched her from afar. During the battle of the Blackwater, he’d thought about the women, about her, if the city were to fall and he’d never felt the blood rush through his veins faster.   
Now here she was, they’d wedded and bedded one another and now she was his to protect. He decided that his first order of business as her new husband would be to try and get a raven to her brother, Robb Stark. He deserved to know that is sister was alive, well, and married. He’d tell him to write a letter to Sansa, to let their mother write to her, and that he would be sure that it got to her, no matter what.   
He fell asleep that night imagining the smile she would give him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not thrilled with how this came out, but I think I've kept y'all waiting long enough.  
> The throne room scene isn't great, this is real not edited, but it's cool. Be kind.  
> I'm honestly excited for what comes after this though

Shae opened the door and looked towards her Lady’s bed. The boy was there, they were both naked and in deep sleep. She wanted to let them sleep, to let them continue their shy, delicate dance around each other without the prying eyes of the court. She wanted to keep them safe. But Tyrion had been right: there was no safety in King’s Landing.

“My Lady, it is time to wake,” Shae called gently. Podrick sat upright immediately, looking dazed and unsure. When he realized that Shae was there, and his own nudity, he held the blanket against himself firmly. She nodded at him.

“My Lady,” he whispered, shaking her arm. She stirred and looked at him through tired eyes. When she gained more wits, she gasps and pulled the blanket to her own chest.

“We must ready you for court, My Lady,” Shae piped up. Sansa looked towards her, just noticing her lady’s maid for the first time. She nodded, sliding out of the bed and taking the blanket with her. Podrick squeaked, and pulled at the sheets, trying to cover himself. Shae rolled her eyes. She’d seen more than her share of naked men and Sansa was his wife, she’d seen him all already.

When Sansa’s back was turned, Pod rolled out of the bed and pulled on his breeches. He threw his tunic over his head and his hand hovered over the cloak on the floor next to Sansa’s dress. A smile touched his lips and he pulled it up and over his shoulders.

“I’ll just,” he motioned to the door and the blush resumed its usual position on his cheeks. Sansa nodded and gave him a shy smile. He turned towards the door and poked his head out, glancing around the hall to make sure that no one saw him leave the Lady’s chambers so early in the morning.

He kept his head down as he walked back towards Lord Tyrion’s chambers where his small cot and few belongings were. He entered and closed the door quietly.

“Ah Pod, welcome back,” the voice of Tyrion called out to him. He jumped slightly, and turned to face the lord. “How is married life?” Tyrion asked, smirking at his former squire.

“Good, ah that is, I meant to say it-”

“Podrick,” Tyrion said, stopping the boy from stumbling further. “Satisfactory?” He raised an eyebrow. Pod nodded and looked down.

“Wonderful,” Tyrion said. “Now come, we have to get you bathed and pretty for the King.” He turned and walked into the main sitting area in his own chamber. There, a tub of steaming water sat. Tyrion motioned for Pod to get in. He removed his clothes once more, being sure to carefully fold them. He stepped into the water and felt his muscles relax.

“Now, you will be going before the king today to prostrate yourselves and spin your tale.” He said as Pod rubbed the water over his arms. “You and Sansa will tell them how madly in love you are, but also how you understand that you have done a disservice to the King by not seeking his permission first.”

Pod nodded and continued to wash himself. When he was finished Tyrion threw a towel at him and he dried himself. He’d begun to worry about what he would wear. He had worn his nicest set of clothing to be married last night and not thought about what he would wear to be presented to the King. Surely Lady Sansa would look stunning, as she always did when she attended court.

“A gift,” Tyrion broke him out of this thoughts. He gestured towards a set of clothing folded on his bed. It was of a fine weave and the embroidery was excellent. It was clothing fit for a lord.

“Thank you, my Lord,” Pod said, not knowing what else to say. For the first time, he felt the gravity of the situation they were in. His wedding and wedding night had seemed a dream, the consequences hadn’t seemed real, but here he was, dressing in lords clothing and preparing to attend court. He was not the same Podrick Payne that had come to the capital to be Lord Tyrion’s squire.

When he’d dressed, he pressed his hands over his front, smoothing out invisible wrinkles and setting everything perfectly in its place. He puffed his cheeks, blowing out a breath. Lord Tyrion gave him a grim look.

“Come along, Podrick, your Lady awaits.” They navigated back towards Sansa’s chambers in silence. Podrick knocked when they arrived and Shae opened the door, allowing the men inside.

Folded neatly on the bed was their marriage sheet, the small spot of blood proudly atop it like a rose. Pod blushed.

Sansa looked as pretty as he’d expected, her hair loose about her shoulder, not knotted in a complicated southern look. She offered him a small smile and he gave one back to her. Tyrion stood in the corner, talking to Lady Sansa’s hand maid, presumably explaining what her role was for the day.

“You look lovely, my Lady,” Pod said to Sansa.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she replied amiably.

“I’m no lord, Lady.” Pod said. “You’re well, I trust?”

“Ser, then,” Sansa decided. “Very. Those clothes suit you well.” She said. Podrick wanted to argue, to tell her that he was no knight either, but he supposed that a lack of title was confusing for her, and that she was not comfortable calling him by his name all the time yet.

“Thank you.” They stood awkwardly after that, nothing left to say between them.

“It’s time,” Tyrion said, and then giving them a serious look, left the room. Pod and Sansa looked at each other, and he offered her his arm. He stood a little taller when she placed her hand delicately on it, not wanting to embarrass her with his poor posture. As they left the room together, he noticed her maid pick up the sheet and follow closely behind them.

The young couple, the Lord Tyrion, and the maid Shae walked through the halls of the Red Keep towards the throne room to present themselves before King Joffrey. They passed other lords and ladies on their way and Podrick and Sansa observed them whispering behind their hands and staring.

When they arrived to the throne room, they stood back, waiting for the King to enter so they could prostrate themselves before him. Sansa wrung her hands together, nervous. Whenever she entered this room, she either had to bear witness to an atrocity, or to have Joffrey turn his tortuous eye upon her. She imagined that Tyrion felt the same way.

The doors opened and Joffrey entered, swaggering, a sneer decorating his pinched face. He sat on the throne, uncaring and graceless. He motioned for his first petitioner to step forward and begin speaking.

“Your Grace,” Lord Tyrion started, stepping forward. “I have a matter to bring before you.” He stepped to the middle of the room, in direct view of the king’s malicious gaze.

“Speak, Uncle.”

“My loyal squire, Podrick of House Payne, and the Lady Sansa of House Stark have in secret been wed before the eyes of gods and men.” Tyrion said. “They, and myself, have come before you today to ask you to bless this union.” He turned then and motioned that they come forward.

Joffrey regarded them, clearly not having anticipated this disruption of his plans.

“W-we have brought the wedding sheet, your Grace, as proof,” Podrick spoke suddenly. He motioned behind him for Shae to bring it forward. Sansa felt her cheeks burn that her innocence be on display before the court. She felt Podrick shaking beside her. She squeezed his arm, wanting to comfort him.

“This is treason,” Joffrey shouted. “I’ll have your heads!”

“Your Grace, perhaps we should hear the story before declaring death,” Maester Pycelle croaked. “House Payne, after all, has been unending loyal to House Lannister and to your royal self.”

Joffrey scoffed at him and turned to glance at Cersei, who stood slightly behind him. She nodded slightly. Joffrey sighed and faced them again. Sansa knew then that they would not die, at least not then. She still served a purpose for the Queen.

“Very well, do tell us how a squire came to earn the favor of a lady,” Joffrey said, clearly bored and unhappy that he would not get to see her head decorating the spikes of the Red Keep.

“After the death of my traitor father, I was lost in the capital,” Sansa began. “I was of traitor’s blood and I had no friends here. Who would want to be friends with the disgraced daughter of the North? But Podrick was kind to me.”

“I didn’t see a great lady,” Podrick jumped him. He didn’t want Sansa to have to stand on her own, there in front of the entire court while he stood back helplessly. Perhaps, in this instance, he could be a hero, her hero.

“I saw a girl who was frightened and alone in the world, much like myself. I hadn’t meant to love her, but it was easy, Your Grace. Of course, we could only meet in secret, as not to tarnish the Lady’s reputation. After all, what business could I possibly have with a great lady, as you say?”

“We grew to love one another, and the thought that we might be separated was unbearable.” Sansa said. She squeezed his arm again and he pulled her hand tightly into his side.

“How quaint,” Joffrey said. “I will consult with my small council and see what is to be done about this. You’re dismissed.” He waved his hand and they bowed deeply to him before moving back into the crowd gathered for court. They listened for several hours to other complaints and pleas of those who had issues for the king to hear.

Podrick gave a grateful smile to Sansa and she returned it. They’d survived the day, and were no worse for the wear. Podrick knew that they were not out of danger yet, but he felt certain that they would be soon.

Eventually, the king grew bored of court and dismissed it for the day, and so they were released. The two exited the throne room and Podrick looked at her nervously.  
“I must attend my duties to Lord Tyrion,” he said apologetically. “You’ll be alright?” Sansa nodded, and offered him a small smile. He smiled shyly at her in return and turned to follow his Lord.

“You understand, Podrick,” Tyrion began quietly. “That this is only the beginning of a very long battle.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Podrick answered honestly. They continued to walk towards Lord Tyrion’s chambers but a voice called out to them. Varys.

“I would like to speak with young Podrick, if I could,” he said when he reached them. “Privately,” he added with a pointed look at Tyrion. Tyrion regarded the eunuch closely before telling him that he was welcome to speak in his chambers. Varys nodded his assent.

“I would very much like to offer my congratulations,” Varys said amicably. “You and the Lady Sansa make a very handsome couple, and your story was so moving.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Podrick answered. He wasn’t used to be spoken to directly, except to be given orders. He supposed that he would have to learn to see himself as equal to these men, now that he was married to Sansa and would one day become the warden of the North.

“Though I wonder at how you were so secret in your meetings that you managed to escape the notice of my little birds.”

Podrick felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew that Varys was not the man to be most feared in the court, nor was he in the pocket of the Lannisters, but it was unnerving that he would know their secret so obviously.

“Very carefully, my Lord.” Podrick answered after a moment. Varys laughed at that, clearly not believing it but not saying anything more until they reached Tyrion’s chambers. He was not the only one with little birds all over.

When they entered the chambers of his Lord, Tyrion sat and motioned for Pod to fill his goblet. He did, and waited for Varys to sit. He did not.

“Podrick I do not think that you are aware of how precarious of a situation that you have been placed in.” He began. “The king is the least of your concern. Sansa Stark is a commodity that many wish to have and now you are an obstacle in their way.”

Podrick knew exactly whom Varys spoke of. He’d seen the way Lord Baelish’s eyes followed Sansa. He’d left the capital recently to go to the Vale, but Pod knew that he had spies looking after his interests, after Sansa here. Surely by then a raven was already on its way to him.

“Sansa is my wife and I will do all in my power to protect her.” Pod replied.

“I don’t doubt that,” Varys said. “However, I wonder whether your power will be enough.” He moved towards the door. “I only sought to warn you that you will very soon be under attack.”

~

“Sansa,” a voice called out as she walked back towards her chambers. When she turned, she saw Margery Tyrell walking towards her.

“I want to offer my congratulations,” she said when she approached. “I think that you are very brave for following your heart.” She linked her arm through Sansa’s as they continued to walk. “I was quite moved by your story.”

“Thank you,” Sansa said, wary.

“I only wonder why you didn’t tell me,” Margery continued. “Was it because you were supposed to marry Loras? You seemed thrilled at that prospect.”  
“Yes,” Sansa said carefully. “I would have been very happy to marry your brother.”

“But you didn’t love him,” Margery said simply.

“I know that love matters little to people in our position, but I was overcome.” Sansa shrugged, not meeting her eyes.

“I am so glad to finally see you happy, and my grandmother will be too, no matter how much she may dismay at losing you as a granddaughter,” Margery smiled playfully at her and Sansa was put at ease.

“I’m afraid it won’t last, the King was not very happy at our deception.”

“I’ll speak to him.” She stopped and faced Sansa full on. “You’re a very dear friend, Sansa.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at the woman who held the king in her pocket.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors about your new husband and I want to know if they’re true.”


End file.
